


Broken

by Anonymous



Series: Anon works [3]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Abuse, Child Abuse, Forced Prostitution, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mental Health Issues, Past Relationship(s), Sexual Abuse, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 07:34:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26968309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Life is sometimes cruel, isn't it?
Series: Anon works [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1960570
Comments: 1
Kudos: 62
Collections: Anonymous





	Broken

Dream had always wanted to visit the people he talked to online. They brought him large amounts of joy and made him smile. He enjoyed talking to them, playing games with them, just being with them in general. So when, he received the message of his friends coming to visit he was ecstatic. He could finally meet them. He was so excited! 

-

Sightseeing, roughhousing, talking, eating out, etc. The day was filled with activities that radiated fun.

-

The day had been filled with large bouts of laughter scattered through the hours. It had been so fun. He was happy, so so happy. So when they said they were going to stay for a whole week, he was filled with pure joy. He could spend more time with his friends! He laughed along to their jokes and smiled. Happy. He was so happy.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

He opened his eyes to the sun shining through his curtains. He sat up and cringed at the dried substances on his body. He felt disgusting. He got out of bed and headed to the bathroom to clean up. His dream was now long forgotten, replaced with reality. His reality. He looked at himself in the mirror and saw a thin man staring back at him. The man was bony and underweight. He looked like a skeleton. He turned the sink on: splashing water on his face.

*****

Ever since he had been able to remember, he'd always known his family was different. His parents almost never smiled and laughed like the other parents did. They never took him to the park nor played with him. It was rare for them to even look at him. But when they did, one was filled with sadness, the other something dangerous. 

He learned very quickly what that was.

*****

His home life had started spiraling down when he entered 4th grade. That was when his mother left and never came back. His father began drinking from different colored bottles and began beating him. He'd always go to school covered in bruises, that ached with every movement. He always pleaded with his father to end the beating but, he'd be ignored. 

The pain only continued as he grew older. Along with a new type of beating. His father seemed to enjoy this type of beating the most. 

He was 12 when he learned that what his father did was considered vile. That the beating and "punishment" were actually considered abuse. That was the day, he came home to a woman in his father's arms. 

It was his step mother. He liked her instantly. She was a kind person with the brightest smile. He had felt bad for her. She had signed her own death certificate the second she stepped into the house. 

*****

Dream was considered the second bread winner of the household the day he reached 15. His fifteenth birthday was something that haunted him to this very day. He remembered very clearly the disgusting hands that held his struggling body down. The unwanted touches. The pain. They were all so prominent in his memory. But there was one that was clearer than any of those. It was the look on his father's face as he was violated by strangers. 

Pleasure.

*****

His father's outraged yells were a daily thing by this point. He always found something to yell about. Something to beat his family over. 

*****

"Will you shut your mouth? Every single fucking time I have a break you always have to wake me! Goddamit, woman! Can't you just leave me alone already!"

"Stop yelling. You know the children don't like it." 

"Don't tell me what to do! All you do is bitch, not even lifting a single hand! I'm the only one who works in this godforsaken house! Can't you let me rest woman!"

"Please stop yelling. You're going to scare the kids."

"Shut your mouth!" 

The sound of skin being hit echoed loudly. 

"Jeremy-"

"I said shut your mouth!"

Another slapping sound.

"Jeremy, stop! The kids are still awake!"

"Don't tell me what to do! All you think about is those spoiled little brats! I should've killed them the day they were born!"

"Don't you say that!"

Smack. Crash.

"Are you defying me you useless woman?" 

-

He locked his door and covered his ears. His father's angered yells only grew in volume along with the cries of pain and screeches from his mother. He shut his eyes tightly and curled into a small ball. He wished he could do something about this. He wished he weren't so useless. 

He felt his thighs ache in dull pain as memories of what had happened not even a day earlier flooded his mind. Large hands groping his body with too much force to be considered loving. The hands around his neck that had made him almost black out from lack of air. The bruises made by those hands. Shallow cuts left behind by his disobedience. The stinging pain from his backside along with the ghostly feeling of liquid dripping down his legs. 

He pressed his hands tighter against his ears as the yelling continued. He brought his legs together and felt his chest constrict in sorrow. He couldn't do anything to save him or his family. He was a prisoner here. He'd never see the light of day again. He couldn't find it in himself to cry. 

*****

"Dream, are you okay? You haven't talked to us in a while. Is everything alright?"

He only let out his signature wheeze. 

"Why are you worrying about me, Gogy? I've just been busier these days."

He was silent. 

"You know you can always talk to me, right? I'm here for you."

His chest constricted in pain. 

"Is this your way of saying you love me? Aww, Georgie, I always knew you loved me! Come on say you love me! You know you want to!"

"Dream, no! Shut up!"

He only laughed.

It was moments like these where he wished he were brave enough to say something. But like always, he was too cowardly to say anything. 

*****

4:57 a.m.

It was late. Really really late. He wanted so badly to go to sleep, to feel his soft blanket on his skin. He just wanted to sleep. But he couldn't. He had to finish editing the video. He knew he wouldn't have time later in the day to finish, it was either now or never. He sighed and ran his hands over his face. The skin felt stiff and leathery. He glanced at his hands, seeing the bandages wrapped around them. They were a dirty brown color with signs of it loosening. He'd have to change them soon. 

He brought his hands back down and closed his stinging eyes for a second. "Just a little more and you can sleep. Just hang on for a little longer. You can do it." He whispered to himself. He grabbed his mouse and continued where he left off. 

-

He opened his eyes and groaned. He had fallen asleep before finishing. The computer was making small whirring noises and radiated heat. It'd been running all night. He cursed. 

He got up and saved his work before shutting the computer down. He'd check if it was okay later, right now he had to check what time it was. If he was late again....he shivered in fear of the consequences. He turned his phone on.

1:39 p.m.

He was late.

-

Tardiness meant less income. Less income meant punishment. Punishment meant...

*****

It was 11:45. Earlier than normal but he was tired. It'd been a long week. He was finishing his nightly schedule when he heard the doorknob jiggle. He froze. He didn't make a sound as he stood there, listening to doorknob continue to jiggle. 

"Dream." 

He felt himself shrink back at the voice. Why was he here tonight? Wasn't he supposed to be drinking himself away at the bar? It was much too early for him to be back. 

"Dream, open the door."

He didn't move a muscle. He couldn't. He was so scared. He knew what the man wanted and he didn't like it. 

"Dream, I said open the door."

Again he didn't move. He just stood there silently in fear. Maybe he'd go away if he didn't respond. He almost laughed at himself for having such a thought, when had he ever gone away?

"I guess I'll go to your sister then." 

That made him move. He hastily stumbled to the door and unlocked it. He shrunk into himself as he saw the monster of a man there. Even now, when he was an adult, he was still so scared of him. 

"Get on the bed. Its time for your punishment."

He could do nothing but comply. One person was better than two after all. 

*****

When he got into his first relationship, all he could feel was adoration for his partner. She was the light of his life. She made everything more bearable. With her, he felt like he could do anything. If she was with him, then whatever happened didn't matter. He was foolish. He young and dumb. She had engraved that into his brain.

She had done the same things his father had done so many times before. She'd have others bully him if he didn't comply with what she wanted. The beatings always hurt him badly. It wasn't from the physical aspect but from the mental aspect. The woman he loved was doing the same thing his father did. Abusing him. 

And like his father, he never told a soul. Never spoke a word to anyone about what was happening. He was a coward. 

*****

His other relationships had followed the same path. He'd fall for someone who treated him decently then they'd do a full 180 and abuse him. And yet he stayed with those people until they grew tired of him. Then he'd move onto another person. Another person who treated him with a speck of kindness. 

He wanted love. Care. Kindness. Was that so wrong? He was only human. He deserved those things like everyone else, even if the methods were unhealthy. 

Dream was no fool in that regard. He knew what he was doing was wrong. But he couldn't stop himself. He kept falling into this pattern willingly. His being craved for love even if it had to suffer to get it. 

*****

Dream was an adult. A full grown adult who could go out into the world and never look back at his childhood home. An adult who could be free. But he stayed. He stayed in the home of his father willingly. He stayed for his siblings. His younger siblings came first. He wouldn't let that man touch them. Wouldn't let him even think of subjecting them to the things Dream had gone through. 

So he stayed. He stayed in the house filled with horrors. He continued to live in the house even as his sense of being whittled away slowly. 

He'd never be able to escape. Even after his siblings had all fled the house and his father passed on. He'd still stay in the house. And when he felt his body ache for love, he'd close his eyes and dream of friends he'd never meet in person. Ever. He'd dream of them to drive the longing away. For he was a prisoner.


End file.
